


Endurance

by HasteWaste



Series: Renewal [1]
Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Conflict Resolution, Drama, During Canon, Duty, F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Isolation, It slowly gets better I promise, Memories, Mid-Canon, Non-Canonical Violence, Previous tag is implied canonically but is directly depicted because Ganon is the embodiment of evil, Retelling, Self-Doubt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2019-10-11 00:15:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17436203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HasteWaste/pseuds/HasteWaste
Summary: Depicts Zelda's thoughts and experiences during her century of isolation against Calamity Ganon.Updates intermittently.





	1. Chapter 1

> Would this ever end?  
>  She thought of her people and endured.

* * *

The ancient priestesses of old often wrote of a power, a sacrosanct act of benevolence created by the golden three; Din, the goddess of power and cultivation, Nayru, the goddess of wisdom and law, and Farore, the goddess of courage and creation. Their ascension to the Sacred Realm bestowed the land a gift of such terrible power, foes innumerable craved, coveted, and reaped the land to keep it in their grasp. In their omnipotence, the Goddesses created a sister as sovereign over the power and land that became her namesake. Eons passed, and the fourth goddess shed her divinity to guard the golden power - and to give hope to her people, for only mortals could use it to make any wish their heart desired. The golden power, known by the people as the Triforce, was lost and found through the rivers and sands of time, faded from living memory nay for a special few. The Triforce and the fourth goddess incarnate would come when the physical realm, Hyrule, needed them most. Their name was Hylia.

This time, them and their powers were nearly too late.

With that thought, they opened their eyes.

The void, filled with noxious black ash and tinges of concentrated malice surrounded them, tendrils wicking and pulling at their body - seeking to destroy yet found no purchase against the divinity that flowed through their veins and casted a golden light into the endless darkness. Ancient, long-forgotten tongues cursed in their ears and the brute force of one million men pressed onto them on all sides. One voice in particular boomed over the others, a deep, feral snarl that shook their bones and rattled their skull.

Ganon, demise and evil incarnate, sought their power, sought an escape from this shared prison between the known realms. The void was not of spirit, or the physical. The goddess and the beast lay somewhere in between, a place where light and time dare not go -

They knit their brow in concentration. Pulling energy from their core and into their hands, they cast a beam of light into the void and kept the pressure at bay. Heat pooled into Hylia’s palms as they gathered the incorporeal beast around them, fortifying their dome that sealed Ganon away from the rest of her people. The center of Hyrule, the castle sanctum, was the door to it’s prison, their own prison. The land was safe until their chosen hero returned to defeat the beast.  
They must endure until that fateful day.

Ganon, irate, roared in retaliation to their attack.

**_THOU HAST LED THINE PEOPLE TO RUIN THROUGH COWARDICE. I SHALL BURN AND LAY WASTE AND TAKETH WHAT IS MINE._ **

They said nothing into the darkness.

 _Such a fool,_ they thought. This mental and spiritual battle had been fought countless times. Satisfied, they closed their eyes, seeking the light.

* * *

Like the triforce, their spirit was also split into three; One of the flesh, one with the land, and one with the spirit. Their mortal form lay dormant, encased in golden crystal deep within the outer edges of the void. Beyond the void, Hylia’s mind lay wherever it was needed most. Their spirit flowed through the rivers and lush forests and blew the sands of the desert throughout, bringing renewal to that which was lost. Plants and flowers sprouted and grew. Death Mountain boiled and churned with unending heat. The Hebra mountains rose proudly over the endless snowdrifts, scraping the heavens with peaks that cast shadows far beyond the unending winter gales. The great sea crashed onto the shores. Her people struggled, bore, and persevered over the constant struggle of existence. Life burned like the sun and faded in the fog of the night, working in tempo with their slow, measured breaths, an oasis of calm in the darkness of chaos and destruction.

Time passed.

 _I wish to see him,_ a muted voice beckoned. It held a quiet resignation; They knew it shrouded wounds far deeper than it cared to admit. There was monumental loss. There was unending grief. There was the continuation of the smallest shred of hope that their cherished would return, and the pain and suffering would finally end for her and her people.

It was Zelda, their current mortal incarnation. _Please,_ she asked.

Their framework shifted, melding through countless lifetimes until the most recent came forth. Zelda led their collective thought. The change was tangible to all in the darkness.

**_YOUR HERO IS DEAD, CUR. I HAVE LAIN WASTE TO HIM AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE THE SAME._ **

She remained silent, yet fear nagged at her. Was he still alive, healing in the Shrine of Resurrection after the fateful battle ages ago? Would he remember, and come for her? Would they finally end this?

She centered herself. _He will survive. We will win. Hyrule will endure. _She shot another beacon of light through the void, silencing the beast.__

____

__

She noted after a time, that while she was conscious, the Malice and diatribes affected her far more compared to Hylia, her mother of mothers. She was a part of them, they were part of her. She knew, somewhere deep inside of her, they were one, like all of their children before her. Was it because of her mortality? She didn't know.

Suddenly, the malice around her seared, burning hot and deep into her skin.

 _I wish to see him._ She fought against the pain searing into her and closed her eyes, forcing them to remain shut while her sight shifted.

Somewhere, miles and miles away from the void and into the neighboring Spirit Realm, she searched and found his spirit, a faint blue glow in in the web of life that impeded her view of the physical world.

She delicately held his light in her hands. _Wake up, Link._ She spoke, nursing the spirit with Hylia’s power, desperate for any improvement, blindly hoping for a change after so many years of nothing. _Please._ Light flowed from her fingertips and swirled, seeping into the dull blue that felt far too rough in her hands, remaining stagnant. _I need you. I will wait as long as it takes._ Her skin felt like it was aflame, she couldn’t stray from the void for much longer-

His light flickered slightly, almost as if he responded.

 _Open your eyes,_ she begged, fighting the boiling heat that followed her consciousness from the void to the Spirit Realm.

Nothing happened, like countless times before. She blinked and immediately returned to the void with a gasp. The malice, sensing her return, boiled and burned into her spirit, the agony causing her to cry out in pain.

 ** _WEAK._** Ganon bellowed. **_USELESS._** It burned impossibly hotter. **_FAILURE. I AM THE DESTROYER OF ALL CREATION DUE TO YOUR INCOMPETENCE, FOOLISH MORTAL._** Her throat and lungs seared, tears running down her face as malice coiled around her, keeping her prisoner.

****

****

She was not a failure, she thought beyond the pain. She faced Ganon, alone, for what felt like eons - and yet this was nothing in the grand scheme of things. Her champions, her people, suffered far more at the hands of the Calamity than she did.

Her hold on the barrier around them strengthened and dissipated the beast’s grip on her spirit. In retaliation, a vision projected around her of Hyrule aflame, a clash of fiery orange, black, and sickening malice. Bodies were strewn and tore to pieces, blood seeping into the ground and turning the rivers a red that matched the color of the full moon that hung in the sky. And over, and over, her hero, her loyal friend, Link, died in gruesome ways far worse than the last. She watched herself in the background, rigid and uncaring.

 ** _YOUR FAULT. YOU ARE TO BLAME._** The voice in the void echoed. It felt like an eternity, this torture. Time did not exist to her anymore. All that remained was Ganon and herself, a stalemate until the end of time.

Would this ever end? The suffering? The struggle?

She thought of her people, of Link, and endured.

Hylia graced over her consciousness. She finally closed her eyes, relieved into dormancy.

* * *

The battle waged on, sealed at the Sanctum of central Hyrule. Years passed. The struggle for control and power continued. Hyrule thrived, healed as best as Hylia could assist while Zelda fought unceasingly against the embodiment of evil. One day, as Hylia’s eyes closed once again to guard her incarnation’s physical form, another pair opened - a bright cerulean that matched the spirit glowing held by Zelda’s aching hands, deep in the confines of the Spirit Realm.

_Wake up, Link._

The hero awoke.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an awakening, Zelda remembers.  
> (Content warning: Graphic violence)

> She was ashamed, ashamed to be a princess, a leader, a symbol of hope when there was none.

* * *

At first, there was nothing like usual. Zelda held his spirit, a dull, clouded, almost waxy orb of faded blue and contemplated while she floated aimlessly around the Spirit Realm. Millions of threads of life tangled far above her head into a smoky screen. If she focused on the individual strands, they each held a faded color of their own. Each thread was centered from an orb, deep in the web, far beyond her reach. Some threads were brighter than others; bold strings of scarlet, chartreuse green, navy, and mustard yellow streaked and channeled like veins, linking orbs of similar shades. She held a hypothesis that the threads of life symbolized the connections each spirit made in their lifetimes. Now, she didn’t have time to think of such idle topics - There was a battle to be won. 

She thumbed over the waxy surface of his spirit and felt her thumb drag over the indentations, frowning. It had been a century. The Shrine of Resurrection was a myth until the Sword told her otherwise. Ancient technology, remarkable as it was, had its limits. She just had to wait.

Malice’s reach from the void burned her hands. She ignored it. Centering herself, she took a slow, deep breath, and called upon the golden power, encapsulating his spirit. _Link_ , she called to him. The dull blue flickered in her hands. _Link_. His spirit stuttered and shrunk slightly, detaching itself from the waxy film. She did not falter. _Link_. Any change was better than nothing. 

_Open your eyes._

His spirit flickered once more, then gradually brightened to a blue like the daytime sky. His heat, his slow breaths, his _vitality_ warmed her hands, much to her delight. Finally, after so long there was hope - and it was all worth it, for him and their people.

 _You must aid the hero. Go._. Hylia commanded from Zelda’s core. _Do not spare a moment, for time is against us._

How? How could she aid him? How would she escape the storm of malice that was at bay by her powers alone? Instantly the world shifted around her in a rainbow of color. She became the wind, flowing through the plains of Hyrule. She bounded over the soft earth, teeming with life. She was the sun, shining into a cave that opened it’s maw for the first time in a century.

 _Link_ , she called, him still unseen. _You are light, our light, that must shine upon Hyrule once again._ She was nowhere, yet everywhere. All life that existed wrapped around her soul, like strands of thread from the fabric of creation. She still couldn’t see him no matter how hard she tried. Only a rocky, overgrown hole in stone isolated on a plateau, high above the mainland came to her. 

_Now, go._

She returned to the void with a blink. The Malice chilled her skin, then boiled furiously, gnawing for her soul and the Triforce that it protected. Hylia could not be harmed, but Zelda? Her spirit laid in a constant state of mortal peril. 

_Endure._ Hylia’s voice was empty. _That is all we must you - what you must do, my child._

The malice stung, like seawater in an open wound, yet it did not physically harm her. She only felt, felt every form of torture that ever existed and witnessed countless illusions of her worst nightmares brought to life. Ganon morphed her memories, her treasured experiences, into death and destruction. Mipha died, broken and bloody, over and over again, impaled by Ganon’s great spear. Revali was eviscerated into ash through an amalgam of Sheikah technology and pooling Malice. Daruk fought to his dying breath and was crushed to rubble by Ganon’s hand. Urbosa, hooked through her abdomen, stained the floor of Vah Naboris red with her blood.

 ** _THEIR SACRIFICES - ALL IN VAIN._** Ganon bellowed, pressing around her in thought and body. She grit her teeth and contained them; light radiating from her hands, she enforced their shared prison with all her might, straining with sweat that dripped down her brow. _He is alive, he is awake, he will come, she prayed._

 ** _FOOLISH GIRL!_** Malice swirled around her once more, blocking the golden light she carried from prevailing through the void. She blinked, and her vision swept back 100 years to a memory, one at the Spring of Power.

* * *

“What is _wrong_ with me?” 

She fought the tears that threatened to overflow, broken under Hylia’s scrutinous gaze under the cold light of the moon. The roar of the waterfalls muted her query. Why couldn’t she unlock this cursed power, her birthright? Was her devotion insufficient? Was she truly just a failure? Her realizations sunk as deep as the chill of the surrounding water, all the way to the bone. She was pathetic, crying to a statue. She couldn’t pray correctly, let alone unlock the power she needed out of necessity. No wonder she was an heir to nothing, it was all she was capable of. 

She caught her breath, and fought to keep her emotions at bay with little success, tears blurring at the rims of her vision. She turned to leave the incessantly frigid water, dreading the next morning’s conversation with Father. She couldn’t. She was frozen in place.

“Princess?” A familiar voice called to her. 

“Link,” she attempted to speak, yet the words stuck behind her teeth, jaw locked and tight. The frigid water muddied and she sank, deeper and deeper into the Spring. Malice gushed over the falls, pooling around her, acrid and acerbic. The mud was up to her neck. The red light from the moon washed the world with blood. 

**_HYLIAAAA_** Link screamed, doubled with Ganon’s deep, rasping bass. She never heard him shout before - her blood ran cold and she winced. **_YOUR POWER AWAITS YOU._** The malice sunk into her skin. She was melting, immobile, mud rising past her mouth now. She could do nothing. She was nothing.

Nothing. 

It echoed, then stuck inside her mind. A realization washed over her; she was right, nothing could be done for her current situation because it never occurred. This was a lie, like always, a corruption of her true memories. The mud glopped over her head.

 _He is alive. He is awake. He will come. We will fight and endure over the harbinger of destruction,_ she prayed. The light within her sparked; the mud stilled around her. 

Suddenly, she burst violently from the Spring, glowing with heavenly light, malice and mud spewing akin to a geyser. _Let us reveal the truth,_ she spoke with the goddess. The malice broke against the wave of power. It halted in mid-flow, rescinding up the falls, the water clearing as the moon returned to it’s normal shade. Time flew backwards as an array of color and sound, the plants around her undulating backwards in the wind. The memory shifted in place to prior of Ganon’s influence - 

“Princess?” 

She didn’t reply. She fought down her tears, for they were unbecoming of a princess. The waterfalls were the lone source of sound as she attempted to sort her racing thoughts into coherence. She was ashamed, ashamed to be a princess, a leader, a symbol of hope when there was none. She was ashamed that Link was forced to watch her fail at her duty time and time again. How could he stand being in her presence? She swallowed against the dull ache in her throat.

Her voice cracked when she began. “What is wrong with me? Why must I waste everyone’s time with a fruitless endeavor doomed to failure by my own volition?” Her hands shook, not only from the cold. “Why am I so useless?” Her despondence was tangible, much to her dismay.

There was a quiet splash behind her. She turned on numb heels, keeping her aching eyes on the ripples that glittered in the night around her. She refused to look at him. She wasn’t worth his time- not anyone’s time. She watched the surface as he trudged through the water. She couldn’t bear to witness the frustration and annoyance he likely held from witnessing her incompetence. Why, then, did he jump into the freezing spring? Not to mention that it was against the rules, but why?

Then, she jolted slightly when a gentle, calloused hand rested warmly on her bare shoulder. The sensation, utterly foreign, was a stark reminder: she hadn’t been touched by anyone, besides Urbosa, in a decade.

“Zelda, you are not a failure.” He spoke, a whisper barely audible over the roar of the falls. She blinked, attempting to quell her tears. He took a slow, careful step forward, close enough that she felt heat casting from him. “You are not a waste of time or useless.” The weight of his hand was jarring at first, skin on skin that has never been touched, his palm radiating heat and an electric sensation through her shoulder. So rare were his words, she did not register them at first. She couldn’t believe them. Why did he come? How could he say such things? ...Was he mocking her? 

He tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear and left his hand to cradle the side of her face, raising her head so her eyes met his own. She froze, astonished by his actions and his solemn, caring gaze. Her chest ached, overwhelmed by a multitude of conflicting emotions, thoughts, and sensations. He was so close. He touched her. He spoke to her. Feelings she previously stomped out due to their inanity and inappropriateness sprouted under her feet. Why? Why any of this? Why was she so bloody transfixed?

Then, he continued, slowly, methodically; every word a deliberate choice. “You are the most driven and dedicated person I’ve ever met, and anyone who speaks otherwise is a fool.” Her breath caught in her throat as he wrapped his arms around her, pressing her into him, shielding her from the world and its expectations. 

“I don’t know what to do,” she admitted over his shoulder. “I’m sorry.” Anxiety boiled under her skin, nearly spiraling out of her control. She couldn’t stop shaking for the life of her. Her hands gripped the fabric of her dress, a final effort to keep everything down, down, down - 

“If you’ll allow me the honor, I’ll be here for you every step of the way. No matter how long it takes.” He whispered by her ear. His warmth, his words sunk into her - the feeling of it coursed down her spine. Tears flowed from her as she allowed a part of herself to crack, the grip on herself removed, wrapping her arms around him, staining his tunic in the process. She forced her jaw apart. 

“Of course,” she said, stunned beyond belief. His embrace tightened in response. “Same to you.” She added after a moment of careful thought. She felt his entire body relax, holding her closer. They stood still until she stopped shaking. Gradually, her thoughts calmed, her pulse slowed, and she sighed, disregarding etiquette and molded into him, seeking his comfort and placating her hidden desires - She wanted to be held, to be comforted, to be supported regardless of her innumerable flaws. For once, she truly felt safe, felt wanted. He was so warm. How could someone be as incredibly kind, as selfless, as determined as he was?

“Thank you.” She whispered. With a blink, his warmth faded. The spring, the moon, all faded as malice returned, and she was utterly alone.

* * *

**_WEAK. YOU ARE WEAK. THE HERO WILL BE SLAIN BEFORE HE EVEN THINKS OF YOU._** The demon laughed harshly. Her ears rung. She silenced it with a powerful blast of energy. She knew, deep down, Link’s memories would be lost. Her only hope was that Impa endured and could spark his remembrance. It was a risk she had to take to keep hope for their people alive, even if it meant...whatever this was. Placated by the silence, she surrendered to Hylia, allowing them to guard and take the upper hand as she rested, wandering through her memories that even Ganon couldn't touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelda remembers her responsibilities, and doesn't forget.  
> (Content Warning: Graphic Violence, Gore, Death) yikes

> She prayed regardless. It was the only thing she knew.

* * *

“No, I don’t want to!” Zelda pleaded. She couldn’t stand the thought of it - wearing the itchy, heavy dress, standing for hours in some spring while Mother prayed in front of a statue. Why must she go to the Spring of Courage tomorrow? More importantly, why must she go to bed?

“Little Bird, you need your rest,” the Queen responded patiently. “Tomorrow is an incredibly important day for us.” Zelda stayed near her closet, unwilling. The queen moved about the bedroom, unfolding blankets and turning over the linens for bed. Zelda had to do something to prove her point.

“But I’m not tired, see?” She said as she pried her eyes open with her tiny fingers. Maybe, if she stayed awake long enough, she would oversleep and not have to go to the Spring. “See?!?” She emphasized with stretched eyes, wide as saucers.

“You look as engaged with the world as my financial advisors, dear.” The Queen patted an elegant, ink-stained hand on the mattress. “Come, please.” She asked, patient as ever.

“Nuh-uh, I won’t!” Zelda huffed, removing her hands from her eyes to around her upper arms. “Make me.” 

The Queen, visibly exasperated, muttered under her breath: “Only when she’s tired…” Then, she paused, eyes twinkling. “Alright, if you insist. If you’re not tired, logically, you won’t be wanting a bedtime story.”

Zelda’s eyes widened, fingerless. No bedtime stories? That was a tangible threat indeed, she loved reading to Mother and Father. But the thought of a cold spring, utter boredom, and an abhorrent distance from the Library made her refuse to budge. “No story, not sleepy.”

“Not sleepy?” A low voice said behind her. Suddenly, she was snatched by her torso and lifted into the air by a sturdy pair of arms. “What’s this I hear?” Her father brought her face close to his own. She could smell his familiar, woodsy fragrance as he whispered mischievously. “Not sleepy?” He tutted. She giggled, arms and legs dangling in the air as the King gave the Queen a sly smile across the room. “What do you think, love? Should we see if she’s truly not sleepy?”

“Oh, please do.” The queen replied over the cover of an ancient, leather-bound tome, green eyes twinkling. He nodded in assent, and with a playful yell, he launched Zelda several feet into the air. He deftly caught her and spun them around in circles, Zelda’s hair turning into a blur of blonde as she giggled. “More, more!” He stopped abruptly, and with a grunt, he heaved her over his broad shoulders.

“Feel any different?” He asked.

 _“Not. **Sleepy.** ”_ She averred with a grin.

“Stubborn thing, you are.” He tutted. “I was going to play for you tonight.” The King said in disappointment, playfully frowning.

“She gets that from you, love.” The Queen said from the bed.

“Stay!” Zelda asked, breathless, still hanging from his shoulders.

“You said it yourself, not sleepy!” He stage whispered. Zelda pouted, then whispered back. “Please Father? I promise to be tired.” He paused to consider.

“Oh, all right. Into bed we go, sleepy!” They tumbled onto the bed (and the Queen) with a collective OOF. As the Queen tucked a giggling Zelda into bed and tied her hair back, the King pulled a harp from a nearby bedside bureau. Zelda loved it this way-being sandwiched between her parents during bedtime, each armed with their own form of story; a book, spoken word, and crafted song. As they settled, Zelda began, meek from under the thick covers.

“Why must I go tomorrow?” 

Her parents gave each other a knowing look, one that she couldn’t understand. Was it fear? Hope? Worry? Their emotions were soon replaced with a knowingness that they often had - that they knew what they were doing.

“Your Mother and I want you to learn some new, special things called traditions. Not only are they important, they will help many people.” The King replied warmly.

Zelda parsed the new word, _tradition_ , as her mother continued. “I began the traditions when I was your age, Little Bird. That’s another tradition - to start the rituals at the age of six.”

“But what if I can’t do the tra-ditions?” 

“You can, I know it. We both believe in you.” the King said. 

“Fear not, I will be with you.” Her mother began. “Traditions take time, just like learning to read. And now, you eat as many books for breakfast as your Father and I do.” She gently caressed her cheek. Her father gently patted her head. Zelda sighed and leaned into her pillows.  
“Will you learn with me, with us?” The Queen asked. Zelda could see how important the tradition was in her parent’s eyes. It almost seemed to weigh on their shoulders, on the tired shadows under their eyes, the wrinkles beginning to form on their faces. If this was important, she should do it, like how Mother does her important meetings and Father does his important papers. Regardless if they liked doing it or not, they did them anyways. They were right; whatever this tradition may be, it would help a lot of people. She didn’t like the idea, but she liked learning, did she not? It may not hurt to try. The decision was made. 

“Yes.” 

They both smiled at her. “Excellent.” They kissed her cheeks and snuggled. 

The King reached for the harp after Zelda finished reading them a tale of a Rito priestess. The Queen told the story of the mythical Princess and Warrior of Time, who disguised herself for seven years to aid the Hero. “What are we hearing tonight, dear?” The Queen asked, stretching her shoulders after setting the Rito book aside.

“A lullaby.” He hummed, plucking a few strings. He quickly adjusted the tension. Then,  
he began to sing in his low, rich, practiced voiced that her and Mother loved. She sank into the bedding, content. _When you dream, it may seem, time drifts as you close your eyes..._ she felt Mother hum, pressed against her torso. The warmth, comfort, and security quickly brought her to close her eyes. Father’s voice faded into memory. 

Her eyes opened to the void.

She stared into the blackness, the red, and remembered. She did not learn with Mother. Soon after, she died from the illness that spread and eradicated the clergy at the Temple of Time. Father never sang for her again, having lost his light, consumed by grief, loss, and the weight of duty for the land, one she quietly shared. 

After facing a wave of pain, she regrouped. One hundred years of solitude required a system, a way to keep everything in line. First, she fortified the barrier of light that contained herself and Ganon from the land. Second, she found Link’s spirit. He was alive, he was awake. Next, she tried to gauge the land itself. She could never stay for long. This time, she caught glimpses of sprinting feet, stone worn to rubble, and wildflowers. Now that Link was undoubtedly alive, she had more time to focus on things she should have more in the past. She still pondered the weight of the crown, almost constantly, but her thoughts were often shared with worry. When this was over, how would she repair the land? How would she resume international trade routes, rebuild crumbling infrastructure, and unite what was left of her people? She mulled possible replacements for a governing body for the future, if there was one. Hopefully. A century prior, she was brimming with hope for a new tomorrow, but as the decades passed, her hope slowly dwindled. Now, it made a slow, yet steady return, just like the moments after she walked straight to Ganon and was swallowed into the void. 

Later, when she gauged the land, she was summoned somewhere different. Her vision was blurred, and she was tethered to the land in stone. Hints of blue, the smell of water, and the faint sounds of a promise registered. She couldn’t understand, but she knew that whatever transpired was significant. She was whisked back to the void.

Ganon burst upon her return. **_THOU ART A FOOL TO BELIEVE IN THE HERO. HE IS WEAK, WEAK AS THOU ART._** Malice pressed and stung against her skin like splinters. **_I WILL DECIMATE HIM AS I HAVE COUNTLESS TIMES BEFORE-_**

To her complete shock, Ganon screamed in agony, and it wasn’t from her own attacks. Malice coalesced in a cloud of smoke and ash, then thinned. It writhed, snake-like, coiling in a tornado far above her, then dispersed into the darkness. It was quiet, besides the booming, labored breaths of the beast. The clarity of the goddess came to her, along with a blessing she felt unworthy of.

A demure, gentle voice spoke from behind her mind, with the breathy cadence she hadn’t heard in a century: “Princess, I vow to protect him. I vow to protect him as you have.” 

Mipha. 

The idea that she “protected him” made a memory bubble to the surface. She fought it down for later, searching the spirit world instead. There, a new spirit shone next to Link’s, bright teal a complement to his cerulean. Mipha’s spirit held a healing tranquility, connected to his by faint strings in the web of life. She couldn’t believe it - Mipha was free, after all of these years. She wasn’t surprised that Link freed her first. It made her smile- their devotion and love towards each other was quite admirable. In the past, she wished to have the same devotion and trust with someone - but all of her loved ones were snatched away. Until now, it seemed.

“Mipha,” she spoke to her spirit, now cradled in her hands. “It is a joy to hear your voice again. Go with peace and honor.” They glowed brighter and she was whisked back to the void with a blink. What lay before her now, here with the demon? Another spiritual torture? Another illusion? Another diatribe? The memory she suppressed shot to the forefront of her mind against her will. With a blink, the void was gone, and she was cold.

Rain cascaded in sheets and chilled her to the bone. She was caked with a thick coating of mud from head to toe, southeast of the smoking ruins of Fort Hateno, in the middle of Blatchery Plain, and the only source of warmth she had was rapidly fading. Guardians collapsed into heaps from the remnants of the holy light that finally unlocked itself against the grey, dismal night tainted with Malice. They were empty shells and tendrilled arms, no longer vectors of destruction and violence. She witnessed this memory countless times, and each time was far worse than the last, manipulated by Ganon just to make her and the Goddess’s resolve falter, bit by bit.

“You’re going to be just fine-” She channeled her newfound power with determination into his chest and back that was far too slick and sticky to be from the rain. Link, hit directly with a Guardian’s deadly beam, had showered the both of them with blood that now seeped into her dress moments prior. His tunic was more red than blue, slashed and torn across his torso, injured from head to toe. She couldn’t do anything as he took every blade, every blast, every arrow and stone and burst of flame since the Calamity returned - she wished she could have taken them instead. No no no oh goddesses- how? Why was fate so cruel? They were so close to making it to the castle, to finishing this-! As she cradled him in her arms, she hoped and prayed that she could heal him. It was a fruitless endeavor. She prayed regardless. It was the only thing she knew. She heard a slight ringing while an ethereal glow came from her hands as she grit her teeth and focused with all of her might, ignoring the tears that fell as free as the rain. She plaintively ignored the blood staining her hands. She felt his heartbeat stutter beneath her, yet somehow it held on. She gasped as he weakly shifted in her trembling arms. 

With great effort, he lolled his head to look at her. There were so many emotions displayed on his face- agony, locked in his jaw and behind his eyes. Determination, in his brow. Regret, sorrow, fear. and one she couldn’t place, one she had never seen before. He stared deep into her - like he aimed memorized every detail in her face, imperfections and all. She refused to let his eyes close, for his heart to stop, she had to keep him alive at all costs because she- 

He shakily raised a ragged arm and pointed to her collarbone. The Sword was still in his other hand as he weakly crossed his fists over his chest and pulled them outwards. It was a question, signed to her in desperation: << Are you safe? >>

She choked, her throat tighter than her grip on his tunic. His heart faltered again as she nodded, overwhelmed. Relieved, he sighed and his eyes rolled backward, head slacking, becoming limp in her arms. 

NO - she coursed power into him. His heart stuttered again, weaker. _Please, I need you alive, I need you safe._ Again. _I can’t do this alone._ Again. _I need you by my side._ It was even weaker now. _I need you. I love you._ She could barely feel it. _Please, goddesses above-_

He took a shallow, rattling breath, and stilled.

 _He’s gone._ She was alone. 

“No…” 

What was left of her composure shattered, and she broke like the weapons and guardians around her, like the entirety of the kingdom she was determined to save. But it was too late. She failed. She couldn’t protect them from the dangers of her failed attempts to perform her divine responsibilities. And yet-

His final motions - asking if she was safe. She wept bitterly, bent over his chest, wanting nothing more for his heart to beat, to open his eyes. The last person who truly believed in her was gone. First, Mother, then Urbosa, Daruk, Mipha, Revali - Link. Her Champions. Her responsibility. 

He died to keep her safe. And she loved him. She loved all of them, that was the key, the answer she needed this entire time! Love, devotion, duty. She allowed herself to trust and love someone so much, it ultimately unlocked her powers. She finally allowed herself to put her feelings first, and it was for nothing. She failed. Everyone she ever had the opportunity to cherish was gone. Suddenly, his body grew boiling hot. Shocked, she sat up and watched as he melted into a pool of black, glowing malice that ate and sizzled away at her flesh. The rain turned to blood, the sky turned red, and it dripped through her fingers, slow and viscous. Her hands were black. She was on fire - and it all disappeared with a blink and a blast of smoke.

Low blow. She thought, almost crassly. The memory didn’t matter now - he was alive, he was awake. They would fight and overcome. She would fight to renew the land and heal the scars from the evil that churned around her. She would fight for her people, for the light that they deserved to have in their lives. She would fight for the future. Like Hylia, her love for her people, for Hyrule, was unconditional and unending.

She took a deep breath, steeled herself against the pain, arm aloft with holy light, and fought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your unending patience. Life is busy. Most of the story is drafted, but needs a few ties to bring it together. Regardless, I aim to update as much as possible. 
> 
> Other notes:  
> \- Link signs in American Sign Language. If my descriptions are poor, my sincerest apologies. I want to represent sign language as accurate and respectfully as possible, and any feedback (or constructive criticism) is much appreciated.


	5. Author's Note: Renewal and Upcoming Things

Hello, all. I have not forgotten or abandoned this! _Renewal_ is two years in the making, and I can't wait to continue with the story. Thank you all for your patience. I worked the summer away; now that college is in session, the planned weekly updates are infeasible. I will update when I can. But for now, housekeeping:

\- This is a four part series, each with a set of chapters: Endurance, Courage, Wisdom, and Power.

\- There is a slow burn! Like, geological scale slow burn. But it's there.

\- Zelda is a researcher. Science and other areas are mentioned in upcoming chapters. I'll provide links to the topics mentioned in the Author's notes.

This note will be deleted after two updates.

Stay hydrated,

\- HasteWaste


End file.
